Welcome to normal
by Dee678
Summary: Set at the end of 3.02, this hopefully goes some way to explaining the look of concern on Sam's face as Andy lies sleeping in his lap. Sam just wants a normal life for the two of them - as long as it's nothing like the existence that was normal for him when he was growing up.


Andy was snoring. True, it was gentle snoring, more like little snuffles than full-on snorts, but if she knew she'd probably be mortified. Sam sat on the sofa and looked down at her, as she slept with her head on a cushion on his lap, and thought about how he'd have to tease her about it when she woke up.

He was stroking her bare arm with his right hand, while the finger tips of his left traced tiny circles on her scalp. He loved being able to touch her like this, to run his fingers across her smooth, soft skin and tangle his hands in her silky hair. He'd spent the best part of two years imagining – and then trying not to imagine, because it was pure torture – what it would be like to be able to do that, and now here he was, in her home and her heart, free to touch her as tenderly as he wanted.

This was what he had meant all those months ago when he asked her if she wanted to try being normal together. He wanted nights snuggled close on the sofa watching TV; trips to the supermarket together; taking it in turns to cook dinner. He wanted to watch her as she cleaned her teeth at night, the toothpaste foaming around her lips. He wanted to pull her to him moments after she got out of the shower, the smell of her cinnamon shampoo and coconut body wash filling his senses. He wanted to wake up with her wrapped in his arms, still foggy from sleep, every single day.

And he wanted her to be able to doze off against him after a long and tiring day, like the one they'd had today. It had been a hell of a shift. He rated his work days on how often the adrenaline pumped around his body and it had been several times today. The first time was when Andy went over the gate in pursuit of young Wyatt. He could hear them tussling on the other side of the fence but couldn't get through to help her and it made him sick with worry. What had he been thinking, letting her go over there on her own? What if something happened to her? He couldn't help panicking and he was so desperate to get to her when he barged the gate open he didn't even notice the pain in his shoulder. It was a huge relief to see she was OK.

Then there were those few moments in the school, when he put down his gun and approached Wyatt. _He's fired six shots_, Andy had said. Sam trusted her. And he knew she had his back as he walked towards the younger man. But that didn't stop his mouth going dry and his heart pounding in his chest until he had pulled the gun away from Wyatt and cuffed him.

And when she had said to him in the observation room, "You think we're too different, don't you? You don't think we'll last…", his pulse had raced for a moment. He should be used to her overthinking things by now but the way she said it gave him a scare. After everything they'd gone through to get to this stage, surely she was not about to pull the plug on them because she thought he thought they were too different? Couldn't she accept things for what they were and be happy that they could finally just enjoying being together?

Yes, they were different – he knew that better than anyone. In fact they were more different than anyone realised, Andy included. There was so much she did not know about him, and it sometimes occurred to him that knowing the truth might make her look at him in a different light. OK, so she had an alcoholic father and a mother who'd abandoned her so she wouldn't have a problem with someone whose upbringing was not exactly something out of The Brady Bunch. But if she knew what life had been like for him before he joined the force, well… knowing Andy and her tendency to overthink things, she might wonder if she could have a future with somebody like him.

It was ironic really, that she had chosen to make the, "You think we're too different" comment today of all days, when he'd run smack bang into his past.

Or maybe it wasn't.

Maybe she had picked up on something when they were at Bobby Alvarez's, or when they were talking about Wyatt being in foster care. Andy was very perceptive; that was yet another thing he loved about her. She could also be discreet when she chose to, and hold back her curiosity when she was probably bursting to ask why he was so well acquainted with JT, and how he knew so much about Alvarez's operation. And he had seen the sideways looks she gave him after he made comments about other foster kids doing OK.

He wouldn't be surprised if she'd jumped to a few conclusions and chances were, she was probably on the right track. But he doubted if even she, with her innate ability to imagine the worst, could come up with scenarios about his past that were even half as bad as the truth.

Just then Andy gave a little snort, disrupting the rhythm of her snoring, and he looked down at her. God, she was beautiful. He never tired of looking at her or touching her. He moved his hand to stroke the hair back from her face and she stirred a little but did not wake.

She was it for him, and he knew that if they were to be together, he was going to have to be honest with her. He was going to have to break down the barriers he'd built around himself a very long time ago and let her see the real him. Let her know about all the ugly experiences that had shaped his life and made him the man he was.

But how? How did he even begin to start explaining about the car wreck his life had been up until the day he had started at the police academy? The day he had pulled on the uniform for the first time it was as if he had slipped into a new skin and become a whole other person. No longer was he little Sammy Swarek, the solemn and scrawny kid from the wrong side of town with the nutcase mother, jailbird father and terrifed sister.

He was Officer Sam Swarek, there to serve and protect. He put it all behind him, the trauma of his childhood, the endless months in foster care, the misspent teenage years in which he had almost thrown away any chance of a decent future. He had told nobody about what he'd been through, not even Oliver. Oh, he was sure some of his friends had guessed that he didn't grow up in a family with 2.4 kids and a station wagon in the suburbs but he felt no need to enlighten them.

It wasn't so much that he was ashamed, more that it wasn't who he was anymore. That was then, this was now. New life, fresh start. Nobody needed to know. Or so he thought.

But now the realisation that he needed to open up to Andy settled on him like a fresh fall of snow on the wintry ground. His past was a part of him and as much as he wished it had been different, he felt compelled to tell her about it. He'd experienced this once before - the day they'd gone to Sudbury and he'd told her about Sarah. He'd just blurted that out of nowhere, surprising even himself. But there was just something about Andy that made him trust her, and let her see his deepest, darkest corners.

He'd never felt this way before with anyone else but if he knew if he was going to hand her his heart, she would have to accept it complete with the scars inflicted upon it over the years. And she would need to know the stories behind those scars.

He sighed and ran his fingers through her hair. OK, decision made. He would tell her. But where the hell was he going to start?

_Coming up:_

_When Sam asked Sarah what was wrong with their mom Sarah would just shrug and say, "She's sick." But Mom didn't seem unwell to Sam. She didn't have a cough or a fever or a runny nose or itchy spots. True, she was very thin, and her pale skin appeared grey in some lights, but she didn't look really sick. Just very, very sad._


End file.
